Helen of the Old House Part 46

The helpless Interpreter could only wait silently for whatever was to follow.

At last the madman turned again to the old basket maker. Placing a chair close in front of the Interpreter, he seated himself and in a confidential whisper said, "Did you know that everybody thinks I am going insane? Well, I am not. n.o.body knows it, but it's not me that's crazy--it's John. He's been that way ever since he got home from France. The poor boy thinks the world is still at war and that he can run the Mill just as he fought the Germans over there. There's another thing that you ought to know, too--you are crazy yourself. Don't be afraid, I won't tell anybody else. But you ought to know it. If a man knows it when he is going crazy it gives him a chance to fix things up with G.o.d so they can't get him into h.e.l.l for all eternity, you see. So I thought I had better tell you."

The Interpreter spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. "Thank you, Adam, I appreciate your kindness."

"I was there at the Mill tonight," Adam continued, "and I heard you tell them who killed Charlie Martin. And then those crazy fools went tearing off to hunt Jake Vodell." He chuckled and laughed. "What difference does it make who killed Charlie Martin? I own the patented process. I am the man they want. But they can't touch me. I hired the best lawyers in the country and I've got it sewed up tight. I put one over on Pete Martin in that deal and I've put one over on G.o.d, too.

I've got G.o.d sewed up tight, I tell you, just like I sewed up Peter Martin. They can howl their heads off but they'll never get me into h.e.l.l."

He leaned back in his chair with the satisfied air of a business man crediting himself with having closed a successful transaction.

Then, with a manner and voice that was apparently normal, he said, "Did I ever tell you about how I got that patented process of mine, Wallace?" The Interpreter knew by his use of that name, so seldom heard in these later years, that Adam's mind was back in the old days when, with Peter Martin, they had worked side by side at the same bench in the Mill.

Hoping to calm him, the old basket maker returned indifferently, "No, Adam, I don't remember that you ever told me, but don't you think some other time would be better perhaps than to-night? It is getting late and you--"

The other interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Oh, that's all right.

It's safe enough to talk about it now. Besides," he added, with a cunning leer, "n.o.body would believe you if you should tell them the truth. You're nothing but a crazy old basket maker and I am Adam Ward, don't forget that for a minute." He glared threateningly at the man in the wheel chair, and the Interpreter, fearing another outburst, said, soothingly, "Certainly, Adam, I understand. I will not forget."

With the manner of one relating an interesting story in which he himself figured with great personal credit, Adam Ward said:

"It was Pete Martin, you see, who actually discovered the new process.

But, luckily for me, I was the first one he told about it. He had worked it all out and I persuaded him not to say a thing to any one else until the patents were secured. Pete didn't really know the value of what he had. But I knew--I saw from the first that it would revolutionize the whole business, and I knew it would make a fortune for the man that owned the patents.

"Pete and I were pretty good friends in those days, but friends.h.i.+p don't go far in business. I never had a friend in my life that I couldn't use some way. So I had Pete over to my house every evening and made a lot over him and talked over his new process and made suggestions how he should handle it, until finally he offered to give me a half interest if I would look after the business details. That, of course, was exactly what I was playing for. And all this time, you see, I took mighty good care that not a soul was around when Pete and I talked things over. So we fixed it all up between us--with no one to hear us, mind you--that we were to share equally--half and half--in whatever the new process brought.

"After that, I went ahead and got all the patents good and tight and then I fixed up a nice little doc.u.ment for Pete to sign. But I waited and I didn't say a word to Pete until one evening when he and his wife were studying and figuring out the plans for the house they were going to build. I sat and planned with them a while until I saw how Pete's mind was all on his new house, and then all at once I put my little doc.u.ment down on the table in front of him and said, 'By the way, Pete, those patents will be coming along pretty soon and I have had a little contract fixed up just as a matter of form--you know how we planned it all. Here's where you sign--'"

Adam Ward paused to laugh with insane glee. "Pete did just what I knew he'd do--he signed that doc.u.ment without even reading a line of it and went on with his house planning and figuring as if nothing had happened. But something had happened--something big had happened.

Instead of the way we had planned it together when we were talking alone with n.o.body to witness it, Pete signed to me outright for one dollar all his rights and interests in that new patented process."

Again the madman laughed triumphantly. "Pete never even found out what he'd done until nearly a year later. And then he wouldn't believe it until the lawyers made him. He couldn't do anything of course. I had it sewed up too tight. That process is mine, I tell you--mine by all the laws in the country. What if I did take advantage of him! That's business. A man ought to have sense enough to read what he puts his signature to. You don't catch me trusting anybody far enough to sign anything he puts before me without reading it. Why--why--what are you crying for?"

Adam Ward was not mistaken--the Interpreter's eyes were wet with tears.

The sight of the old basket maker's grief sent the insane man off on another tangent. "Don't you worry about me. Helen and John and their mother worry a lot about me. They think I'm going to h.e.l.l."

He sprang to his feet with a hoa.r.s.e inarticulate cry. "They'll never get me into h.e.l.l! G.o.d has got to keep His contracts and I've fixed it all up so He'll have to save me whether He wants to or not. The papers are all signed and everything. My lawyer has got them in his safe. G.o.d can't help Himself. You told me I'd better do it and I have. I'm not afraid to meet G.o.d now! I'll show Him just like I showed Pete."

He rushed from the room as abruptly as he had entered. The Interpreter heard him plunging down the stairs. The roar of his automobile died away in the distance.

In an early morning extra edition, the Millsburgh _Clarion_ announced the death of two of the most prominent citizens.

James McIver was killed in the explosion that burned his factory.

Adam Ward's body was found in a secluded corner of his beautiful estate. He died by his own hand.

The cigar-store philosopher put his paper down and reached into the show case for the box that the judge wanted. "It looks like McIver played the wrong cards in his little game with Jake Vodell," he remarked, as the judge made a careful selection.

"I am afraid so," returned the judge.

The postmaster took a handful from the same box and said, as he dropped a dollar on the top of the show case, "I see Sam Whaley has confessed that the blowing up of the factory was all set as part of their program. Their plan was to wreck the Mill first then McIver's place.

Where do you suppose Jake Vodell got away to?"

"Hard to guess," said the judge.

The philosopher put the proper change before them. "There's one thing sure--the people of these here United States had better get good and busy findin' out where he is."

It was significant that neither the philosopher nor his customers mentioned the pa.s.sing of Adam Ward.

BOOK IV

THE OLD HOUSE

"_Tell them, O Guns, that we have heard their call,

That we have sworn, and will not turn aside, That we will onward till we win or fall,

That we will keep the faith for which they died_."

CHAPTER x.x.x

"JEST LIKE THE INTERPRETER SAID"

It is doubtful if in all Millsburgh there was a soul who felt a personal loss in the pa.s.sing of their "esteemed citizen" Adam Ward.

During the years that followed his betrayal of Peter Martin's friends.h.i.+p the man had never made a friend who loved him for himself--who believed in him or trusted him. In business circles his reputation for deals that were always carefully legal but often obviously dishonest had caused the men he met to accept him only so far as their affairs made the contact necessary. Because of the power he had through his possession of the patented process he was known. His place in the community had been fixed by what he took from the community. His habit of boasting of his possessions, of his power, and of his business triumphs, and his way of considering the people as his personal debtors had been a never-failing subject of laughing comment.

Men spoke of his death in a jocular vein--made jests about it--wondering what he was really worth. But one and all invariably concluded their comments with some word of sincere sympathy for his family.

Because of the people's estimation of the Mill owner's character, the publication of his will created a sensation the like of which was never before known in the community.

One half of his estate, including the Mill, Adam Ward gave to his family. The other half he gave to his old workman friend, Peter Martin.

Millsburgh was stunned, stupefied with amazement and wonder. But no one outside the two families, save the Interpreter, ever knew the real reason for the bequest. The old basket maker alone understood that this was Adam Ward's deal with G.o.d--it was the contract by which he was to escape the h.e.l.l of his religious fears--the horrors of which he had so often suffered in his dreams and the dread of which had so preyed upon his diseased mind.

When the necessary time for the legal processes in the settlement of Adam Ward's estate had pa.s.sed, John called the Mill workers together.

In his notice of the meeting, the manager stated simply that it was to consider the mutual interests of the employers and employees by safeguarding the future of the industry. When the workmen had a.s.sembled, they wondered to see on the platform with their general manager, Helen and her mother, Mary and Peter Martin, the city mayor, with representative men from the labor unions and from the business circles of the community, and, sitting in his wheel chair, the Interpreter.

To the employees in the Mill and to the representatives of the people the announcement of the final disposition of Adam Ward's estate was made.

The house on the hill with the beautiful grounds surrounding it became in effect the property of the people--with an endowment fixed for its maintenance. It was to be converted into a center of community interest, one feature of which was to be an inst.i.tute for the study of patriotism.

"We have foundations for the promotion of the sciences, of art and of business," said the legal gentleman who made the announcements. "Why not an inst.i.tution for the study and promotion of patriotism--research in the fields of social and industrial life that are peculiarly American--lectures, cla.s.ses, and literature on the true Americanization of those who come to us from foreign countries--the promotion of true American principles and standards of citizens.h.i.+p in our public schools and educational inst.i.tutions and among our people--the collection and study of authentic data from the many industrial and social experiments that are being carried on--these are some of the proposed activities."